


An Unexpected Turn of Events

by WitchyLokian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Clint is unsure, Dom!Loki, Dom/sub, First Time, Flogging, Gags, Loki isn't, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, sub!clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:31:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyLokian/pseuds/WitchyLokian
Summary: Clint can't get Loki out of his head. Fun is had.Cross posted to: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nerdblazegarden





	An Unexpected Turn of Events

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to Marvel. All mistakes and typos are my own.  
> This fic was based on this clip:  
> https://youtu.be/kx_gYSCRPpw

It had been approximately a month since Loki had moved into Stark Tower. There was a truce on and Loki was being oddly well behaved in comparison to some of his past endeavors. Perhaps that is what first drew Clint's attention to him, though Clint couldn't say for sure. He only knew that it had started innocently enough and then escalated from there. 

Clint would catch himself watching the god doing mundane, everyday things. And then Loki would catch him watching. Eventually they found themselves in the same rooms more often than normal. One would accidentally bump into the other. Or, perhaps, one would casually brush against the other shuffling in the kitchen or finding a space to sit in the common room. It made Clint frustrated in ways he couldn't quite explain. Even more so because it just kept happening.

Blossoming from these casual, innocent touches, Clint began to have dreams of Loki. In his dreams, Loki held him down or tied him down, having his way with Clint. He took what Clint had to offer, even when Clint wasn’t offering it. Clint was by no means vanilla, but he had always thought of himself as straight. He'd tied up and been tied up for his share of women, but he had never imagined himself with a man before. Never-the-less, he continued to dream of Loki. 

He found himself thinking of the god's lips when he stroked himself at night. He imagined Loki's quick hands, his cruel punishing mouth. He woke up a few times, covered in sweat and come, following dreams of the god forcing himself into Clint's mouth, his body. Clint started to make up reasons to be around Loki, to increase their contact. 

Loki, meanwhile, was wondering what kind of lottery he'd won. He began planning the things he would do to the archer – if he ever got the chance. He took notice of Clint's "accidental" brushes and decided to play along. Only, Loki made them more forceful. A tight hand around the archer's wrist to forestall a dropped mug. A hard shove on the track passed off as a stumble. 

During one training session, Thor thought Loki should practice some Midgardian take down techniques. "In case you ever lose your magic," Thor had explained. Thor called Clint over to assist and was pleasantly surprised when Loki did not argue. They traded a few blows, then, in a flash that was nearly too quick for Clint to register, Loki had Clint down on the ground, his arm twisted behind him and a knee in the mortal's back. 

"I've pinned you Clint, now what?" 

Clint thought Loki sounded far too pleased. He squirmed in discomfort - less from the pain in his arm and back and more from the arousal pooling in his groin. 

"Now," Thor answered Loki's question, "You would restrain him in some way for transportation or until assistance arrived."

Loki pulled Clint's other arm around. He conjured up ropes that slithered around the archer's wrists and crisscrossed up his forearms. A warmth spread through Clint and a small sigh escaped his lips. He checked his reaction and growled, "Let me up, Loki." He shouldn't be feeling so good. So right. So ready for the god to begin the next part.  
"Brother, you've missed the point. You were meant to NOT be using magic.

"Hmmm, I suppose." 

With a wave the ropes vanished and Clint jumped to his feet. “Well, if we're done here, I have a meeting with Natasha."

Clint thought he might go mad with need. He locked himself in the archery range for hours the next day trying to satiate himself through physical exertion, but it did not work. The next night he made his way to Loki's rooms, hoping to talk it through with the other man and deescalate all their contact - that they both knew at this point, was not accidental. 

Loki was not all that surprised to see Clint at his door, but he was curious when the mortal said he "just wanted to talk."

"Talk away Mr. Barton," Loki said with a smile. 

"I mean," Clint said anxiously, "I just think we should keep our distance from one another for a while."

"And why is that?" Loki asked

"It's just, we seem to be running into each other a lot and, frankly, it's making me a little uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? Why should you be uncomfortable Barton?" 

"I..." Clint was clearly at a loss for words. He tried to organize his thoughts, but it was difficult with Loki so near. "I just don't swing that way and I'm not sure what started this whole thing, but maybe we should just stay away from each other."

"Well, whatever you say, Clint."

And that was that. Loki was as good as his word. He was no where to be found for the following weeks. Clint, however, was not as happy with this arrangement as he thought he would be. His skin crawled with need. The dreams came (and made him come) every night. What was wrong with him? Had he suddenly turned gay?

No, he was definitely still attracted to women and was definitely not attracted to any other men as far as he could tell. Plus, he knew sexuality didn't work like that. It wasn't a switched to be flipped on and off. It must just be Loki. 

He tried not to examine his feelings too much, but he was a logical person and wasn't opposed to new experiences.  
After a particularly gruesome battle that Loki had assisted in, Clint couldn't take it any more. Before even taking the time to change out of his gear, he sought out Loki.

Once again, Loki was not surprised to see Clint at his door. He'd been waiting, in fact. Waiting and planning. The archer's timing couldn't have been better. Adrenaline was pumping through Loki's veins and he was washed in the lust of battle. His skin felt tight with need too but not nearly as much as the archer's. Loki knew what he needed but unlike Clint, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. He wasn’t afraid to take it.

Loki let the smaller man in and offered him a seat. He sat across from Clint and just sat. He sat and stared, waiting for Clint to speak first, making Clint squirm under the weight of his gaze. He kept his face blank and mildly interested, as if he had no idea why Clint was there.  
Loki radiated power, reclining there in his armor, looking like every lustful fantasy Clint had ever had. 

Clint finally cracked under the pressure of the other man's eyes. Without any explanation, he simply said "Ok. Look. I want you, ok? I want you. I can't get you out of my head. I want you to take me!”

Loki's voice was cool and collected in response. "What happened to 'I don't swing that way’ Barton? I thought I was making you uncomfortable?"

"I don't know what happened. It's just something about you. I can't stop thinking about you. I – it's more uncomfortable to not be here right now." Clint's voice was rushed and almost panicked. His eyes roamed over Loki as if he was undressing the god in his head. 

"Are you sure?" Loki asked. He sounded almost uninterested, even as he saw the lust dancing in the archer's eyes. 

Clint hesitated, steadied his resolved and said "Yes."  
Loki grinned the most evil smile Clint had ever seen. "If you are, indeed, sure - strip and crawl to me." 

Clint paused. He was sure, right? This was Loki after all. But the situation had escalated much faster than he'd anticipated. Shouldn't there be some sort of discussion? Maybe a safeword or something? The trickster’s face melted into boredom again.

"I didn't think so. You are happy to tease but when it comes down to it you have no follow-through. You can leave now, Barton. Go play with your mortal women." He dismissed the archer with a casual wave of his hand.

Clint's resolve had failed him. Even as his skin sang with need for the god, he got up and turned to the door.

His hand on the doorknob, Clint heard Loki's voice in a low and warning tone behind him. "But so help me Norns, Barton, 'accidentally' brush up against me again and I'll take you. Whether you are asking me to or not."

The threat in his words made the archer's brain spark and his cock twitch. Carefully and slowly he peeled off his clothing, still facing the door. Naked as the day he was born, he turned to face Loki. 

The trickster had leaned forward in his chair, arms bracing on his knees, the wide grim returned to his face. "Oh, this is going to be fun." 

Clint dropped to all fours and crawled across the entire room to Loki. Loki's brilliant green eyes drilled into Clint as Clint knelt there awaiting what was going to come next. Suddenly, Loki got up and towered over the mortal in his leather and armor, looking ever more like the god he was. He stepped around Clint and secured his wrists together behind his back with heavy cuffs he'd conjured out of nowhere. 

"You've only been with women." Loki made it more of a statement than a question. 

"Yes," Clint replied.

"Good," Loki growled possessively into his ear. He pressed a ball gag into Clint's mouth before the other man could protest. "I will be the first man to kiss you, to bed you. Whether you come willingly or not, you will be mine and mine alone, do you understand?''

Clint ducked his head in a half nod. His throat constricted and his breath was tight. It took him a second to remember that he had agreed to this. He wanted it. Badly. He shuddered in his bonds as Loki's breath tickled the shell of his ear.

"Will you come..." Loki stretched the word out into something filthy, "willingly? Or shall I force you?" The god's lips curled up in a sinister smile. 

Clint huffed, his pupils beginning to widen. He moaned into the gag in answer. Loki squatted down in front of Clint staring directly into his eyes, his full battle gear making Clint feel all the more naked and exposed in from of him. 

"I would so love to force you." Loki shoved Clint down by the back of the neck, pushed the archer's face toward his knees and then pulled him forward. Clint balanced on his forehead, shoulders and knees. 

Loki pinned Clint down by his nape. "Wouldn't you rather be forced than be willing?" 

Clint only whimpered in response. 

Loki made a "tsk tsk" sound, stood and walked away. Clint wanted to call out for the other man, but pressed his lips tightly to the gag, instead. He stretched his fingers and strained his arms, testing the strength of the bonds. He was restless, twitching and shivering on the floor. Clint couldn't be sure how long Loki was gone. It could have been minutes or hours. 

When Loki returned, the shivering had evolved into full body tremors. He was practically bursting with anticipation. Loki pressed his boot into Clint's shoulders, forcing him closer to the carpet. "I asked you a question, Barton. Wouldn't you rather be forced?" 

Clint nodded and mumbled something unintelligible into the gag. This was apparently the correct answer and Clint felt a little relieved. Loki removed his boot and toed Clint to come up into a kneeling position. "See," he said, "I know what you need, even if you don't want to admit it. So unsure of yourself, you are."

Loki knelt down on a level with Clint and looked tenderly into his eyes. He caressed a hand against the archer's cheek. Clint leaned into in and sighed. He was taken aback by Loki's tenderness in this moment.

Loki unhooked the gag and kissed him. It started gently. A bare brush of skin, but it was enough to make Clint groan, his interest peaked. Their lips slid over one another's, Loki pulling back to keep the contact as minimal as possible.

Kissing a man wasn't so different as kissing a woman, Clint thought, or maybe it was just kissing Loki. As first kisses go it was one of the nicest Clint had had in a while.

"Mmmm," Loki whispered against his mouth, "Did you enjoy that? For someone who claims to be straight, it hasn't taken much to arouse you."

"Maybe you are just that good," Clint replied.

"You haven't even begun to know."

Loki intensified the kiss and made it hard and wanton. Lips scraped against teeth. He pushed his tongue invading into the archer's mouth, claiming him in this first, very small way. There would be many more claims to come. Loki balled his fist into the other man's short hair and pulled sharply, breaking their kiss apart.

Clint was manhandled to his feet. Chains descended from the ceiling and Clint's bonds were rearranged so his arms stretched in a long line above his head. Loki stalked around him. Clint waited, twitching in anticipation of something - anything. From behind, the gag was replaced and Clint made a disappointed sound. The noise earned him a stinging slap on the ass.

The god spoke in a low gravelling voice, "I said I would be the first man to kiss you, and so I was. I did not say this was going to be nice. If you wanted something sweet and wholesome you would not have come crawling to kneel before me."

"Clinton Francis Barton," he dug his nails sharply along the other man's chest - a warning of things to come. "How long have you wanted this? How long have you craved me?"

Behind Clint again, he continued, "Do you think about me when you pleasure yourself?" Loki reached around and stroked him firmly. Clint thought his brain might explode. 

It was too early. They hadn't even really started. The archer took a deep breath to steady himself. "Do you imagine me invading you, taking you for my own delights?" 

Clint squirmed and shook his head in attempt to calm himself. He'd barely been touched and he felt harder than he'd ever been before.

"No?" the trickster teased, "You don't want this? Then what, precisely, are we doing here? Perhaps I shall just leave, after all, and you shall stay there to wallow in your shame." He walked away, his back turning coldly to the bound man.

Clint whimpered. He hadn't meant that. He didn't want Loki to leave. 

"Ah so you do think of me." Loki returned, looked down at Clint's erection. “Well, that much is very clear." He smoothed his hands down the front of Clint's body, lowered his head to the shorter man's neck. Clint felt like Loki's hot breath on the sensitive skin might burn him alive.

"You'd be happy to stay here. To be my personal plaything. Wouldn't you? I'd have you whenever I wanted and there wouldn't be a thing you could do about it." Loki's lips ghosted against Clint's skin as he spoke. "You'd be nothing more to me than a warm, wet hole to abuse.”

Clint rutted against Loki's leg and the god sank his teeth into the archer's neck. Clint screamed behind the ball-gag, but Loki only let go when he felt the skin about to burst like an over-ripe fruit.

Loki stilled Clint’s hips. “We can't have you getting ahead of my plans, though."

Loki produced something from his pocket and put it in Clint's range of view. It was a small rubber ring. "Do you know what this is?" 

Clint eyes widened but shook his head.

"How very boring you are. This will preserve you for me. To use at my will." He stroked the archer who thrust his hips forward in return. Clint already wanted to get off. He strained for the god's continued touch. He was rewarded only with the ring slipped around him. It choked off his orgasm and pulled a deep moan from him. 

Loki slid fluidly to his knees. Looking up, he was sure that Clint would have come right then at the mere sight of Loki kneeling in front of him. He grinned and swallowed the archer down in one long, slow slide. Clint threw his head back and rolled his hips as he felt the god's warm mouth around him. The antlers of Loki's helmet dug into the archers hips but he pushed himself forward into that wet heat anyway. Clint thought he would pass out from the sight of Loki and from the heat enveloping him. Then, Loki's throat constricted as he swallowed, and Clint couldn't hold back a yelp of pure ecstasy. The trickster's eyes crinkled, and he did it over and over and over until Clint was thrashing in his chains, shouting around his gag.

Loki rose as fluidly as he had knelt. He grabbed the archer by the throat and ripped the gag away. He crushed Clint’s mouth and reveled in the feeling of Clint gasping for breath against him. 

"Are we properly ready to begin now, Barton? " 

"Yes," Clint voice strained through the stranglehold. "Fuck, please, yes!"

“By Norns, you are a mess! And we haven't even started.”

Clint hung his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breath now that his throat was not being crushed. Loki tapped his face with something hard.

“Your attention now, mortal. This item I'm sure you recognize.”

For a brief moment before opening his eyes, Clint imagined the spear glowing softly in front of him. This hadn’t been what he'd dreamed. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. The fear passed as quickly as it came. When Clint opened his eyes there was no spear, but a green and black leather flogger. It looked warm and heavy. 

Loki walked around behind him and lightly trailed the tails of the flogger across Clint's shoulders.

“Beg me,” He commanded. “Beg me to abuse you.”

Clint's head was still spinning from the blow job and from shock. He stumbled over his words. “please – I don't – I want – I'll do what you want. Anything!”

He felt a hand rest between his shoulder blades, just behind his heart. He imagined the spear again. He stilled. "There's nothing you can do, Clint." The trickster's voice was low in his ear; he felt the heat of Loki's body in a line against his own. The metal and leather of the armor pressed dully into his skin. 

"You are trapped. You are mine to do with as I wish." A whoosh of air and the first blow landed right where the hand was a moment before. "Count for me," Loki said with a grin. 

It took too long for the words to process through Clint’s brain and they only clicked into place as the next blow fell. It landed on his lower back this time. It was a deep resonating thud that shook Clint's whole body.

"Two," he said loudly, shifting his arms in the thick cuffs, curling his toes in the carpet. "Three," he counted, as Loki lunged into the swing and landed the flogger squarely in the middle of his back. His erection strained at the cock ring. His breath huffed out loudly. 

Somewhere in the next few strikes, between counting, he began to babble. He begged, as Loki knew he would. 

“Yes, Loki! 

Mark me! 

Use me! 

Yes! 

My god, Loki!”

Loki was just vain enough to believe that Clint was accepting him as a personal god. “How you adore me. How you love my abuse. How well you will serve me,” he growled.

Loki struck him again and again.

At twenty-five, the mortal’s knees began to buckle and his voice was going ragged. At fifty, his brain was hollowed out and the welts he couldn’t see were swollen and red.  
Loki put his hand back where it was when he started. His touch stung the marks there. Clint could hear the god’s labored breath.

“Red is a very good look on you."

The archer couldn't think of any other response but “Thank you.”

With a wave, the chains disappeared. Loki caught the smaller man and eased him to the floor. Clint's eyes had glazed over and he was pliant in Loki's hands. Clint allowed himself to be dragged by the wrists to the bed, shuffling along on his knees behind Loki. His hands were once more locked behind his back. It was a much more uncomfortable position after the flogging. 

There was a golden-green glow as Loki wished his armor and clothes away. He sat nude in front of the kneeling archer. Clint marveled at his length and girth and wondered if he had gotten himself into trouble.

"Open your mouth." 

Clint complied and felt a heavy warmth placed upon his tongue. Loki tasted salty and musky, but the intrusion was too much for him. He gagged and pulled away from the trickster. Loki grabbed him by the throat once more. 

"You can do this Barton. I will claim you in this way as I will claim you in all others. You will be mine. You will do this and then I will give you what you so desperately need. Open.”

Loki eased the grip on his throat, and pulled Clint forward so only the tip of him was in Clint's mouth. 

"Breathe in through your nose." 

Clint obeyed. 

"And now out the same way." 

Clint did. Loki was excruciatingly slow in pushing into the archer's mouth. 

"Breath in"

"Out"

"Now in again and swallow."

Clint struggled to fight his own gag reflex. He breathed through his nose as instructed and tried to convince himself he wasn't drowning as Loki pushed so slowly back into his throat. 

"Yesss," Loki purred, "that's it..."

"Now a deep breath in. I'm going to speed up and you'd better be ready." He fisted a hand into Clint's hair and angled his head back thrusting deeper and deeper, quickening his pace. Clint wondered if his neck would snap until he was distracted by the god's nails digging into his throat, then his chest, then stomach. Clint groaned in pleasure around Loki's cock - earning him a snap of Loki's hips. 

Clint eventually got the rhythm and began to suck, bobbing his head in time to Loki's thrusts. His own cock ached in its ring. He rocked against the empty air in front of him, seeking some relief. Loki's hand, tight in his hair, felt too good. 

“Oh yes. You love this” Loki panted. “I'm not sure I believe you've never done this before. Tell me you don't love my power over you. That you haven't dreamed of me forcing you - using you.”

Clint moaned around his cock, took him all the way down until his lips touched flesh. Loki forced him to stay down, his fingers digging into Clint's scalp, and Clint could not repress the violent shudder of pleasure that ran through his body.

Slowly, the god pulled out of Clint's mouth sighing slightly to himself. He lifted the archer to raise up on his knees and kissed him again, tasting himself on the other man's lips. As they kissed, Loki unlocked the bind holding the cuffs together.

“Get on the bed. On your stomach.”

Clint could not find the words to reply, but obeyed. Loki rearranged him into a half-kneeling half-laying position, his arms comfortably by his head, unbound. Nothing kept Clint there but his own aching desire. 

Loki pressed the length of his erection along Clint's thigh, earning him a moan, and visible shiver.

“Tell me what you want,” Loki commanded. "Say it loud and clear so there can be no misunderstandings."

“I want you. I want you to fuck me, Loki. Hard. I want you to make me scream. Make me come. Make me forget who I am. Who you are."

Loki stroked himself at these words, committing them to memory, to play in his head as prayers to a god.

He knelt down between Clint’s widely parted legs, and began to graze the entrance to his ass with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with a long, low hum from the Clint, who had arched his back into the light touch as much as he was able. He clearly wanted more.

"Yes, my archer. Let me hear your excitement and you will know why they call me Silvertongue."

The more sound Clint made, the more Loki was spurred on. The hooking of his thumb was replaced by the flat of his tongue. He licked in wide swaths, sloppy but satisfying. More perfect sounds of pleasure followed, tinged with growing need. Tonguing lightly around the rim, Loki began to enter his opening, darting in and out shallowly at first, then losing himself to tongue-fucking Clint's ass as he squirmed and panted, moaning uncontrolled now. This, the trickster decided, was all the stretch Clint would get. His wonderful noises were too delicious and too wanting to delay further.

The god reached around and rolled the cock ring off of Clint. He sat up on his knees, holding himself with the slightest of pressure against the archer's entrance threatening the breach.

“When you think of me... when you wake up throbbing and covered in your own seed, after dreaming of me, how do you imagine it happening?” 

“I imagine you…” Clint swallowed thickly around his words, face burning and ducking his head into the sheets. "You taking what you want from me, marking me. Crushing me under the weight of your body.”

“Do I hurt you?”

“Yes," Clint took a shuddering breath in, "and I love it."

"Good." The word is sharp and so is the god's quick thrust into Clint's tight hole. His fingers bruising on the archer's hips as he pulls him back, slamming their bodies together again and again. Clint thought he might split it two, right down the center. Loki felt impossibly big inside of him. 

The god released Clint’s hip with one hand and pressed it square in between the archers shoulders again. With Clint's head and shoulders already down to the mattress, he was effectively pinned. Loki wanted him more than pinned; he wanted him crushed. Loki pushed down with all of the weight he thought was safe and Clint felt the air chased from his lungs. Loki sank into him again and again deeper and harder, each time a little more of the archer's precious air escaped. Clint’s vision began to blur, his begging grew more slurred. He was on the edge of passing out.

Clint cried out, voice ragged when, at last Loki's hand, leaving his back, wrapped firmly around him. The more Loki stroked him the tighter Clint clenched around Loki. They were both barreling toward infinity the mortal's cries morphing into a single word shouted over and over. 

“Loki!”

“Loki!”

“LOKI!”

Loki gave one final hard thrust and spilled into Clint. Loki, still buried inside hugged the other man to him around the chest and softly but menacing whispered in his ear, “Clint, you are Mine!” At this Clint finally lost himself as well. He came still shouting the god's name like a mantra.

The two rolled onto their backs, sighed deeply and basked in the after glow. Loki pulled Clint tightly to his side. “That was quite fun Barton"

“Mmmmmmm. An uexpected turn of events for sure." Clint replied lazily. “Let's do it again sometime. “


End file.
